


Two in the Morning

by Spinedog



Category: RWBY
Genre: College AU, F/F, Happy 6/9 day, I feel like it's false advertising if I don't mention that, also feelings because I am incapable of not writing feels, does not actually contain 69, have some shameless smut, pretty tame but there is a Lot of Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24635860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinedog/pseuds/Spinedog
Summary: Unfortunately, that plan had crumbled. And now Blake was frozen in a suddenly bright kitchen, clad in little more than an old tank top and sweatpants, one hand in a triscuit box, staring at an equally startled Yang in the doorway.---Smutty college au one-shot for 6/9 day. Contains a lot of sexual tension and bad sleeping habits.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 25
Kudos: 233





	Two in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 6/9 day, Smutty Claus has come to deliver porn to the good fandom members. This is kind of a continuation of [this oneshot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687280/chapters/55601338) that I wrote a while back, because I liked the vibe between them.
> 
> On a marginally more serious note - I wrote this in less than 24 hours, upon being alerted what day today is. I haven't written proper smut in a while, and I figured you all would enjoy. This is fairly tame on the grand scheme of porn, but I enjoyed it. I definitely didn't do much typo-hunting, so enjoy the inevitable amount of misspellings and switched words that I will catch and correct later, in my usual manner.
> 
> Also triscuts are a type of cracker that I am prone to eating in the middle of the night. This isn't really important to know.

Two o'clock in the morning was Blake’s favorite time of day. There was no movement, no noise, and no roommates to judge her for eating triscuits in the middle of a dark kitchen. 

In theory, she should have been even safer tonight. All three of her roommates were at a party in the neighboring building, and she’d stayed home under the excuse of needing to finish a term paper. No one needed to know she’d finished it last night, and she could be left alone to try and get some sleep - and use whatever methods necessary to actually get herself to sleep.

Unfortunately, that plan had crumbled. And now she was frozen in a suddenly bright kitchen, clad in little more than an old tank top and sweatpants, one hand in a triscuit box, staring at an equally startled Yang in the doorway. 

For a long moment, the only sound was the wind and rain outside. Yang slowly closed the door. “Thought you’d be asleep already.”

“Thought you were staying at Coco’s for the night.” Blake’s hand rustled in the box - more to make noise than anything else.

The corner of Yang’s lip twitched. “Ruby and Weiss are. I, uh...” Her eyes moved slightly. Had she been drinking? “...it was a little crowded for me.”

“Ah.” Something still wasn’t right. But social interaction wasn’t exactly a strength for her. Especially not social interaction with the reason she wasn’t asleep right now. Blake cut the train of thought off there, pointedly crunching down on a cracker. “Well, I won’t keep you, you’re probably tired.”

Yang still wasn’t moving. Still staring at her, making her pulse jump more and more. “We should talk.”

_ Oh no. _ “Right now?”

She took a step into the kitchen. The walls shrunk. “Yeah. Probably now.”

“I - okay.”  _ You can do this. She’s drunk. You can just talk out of your ass and she’ll get tired and go to bed. _ She leaned against the counter, resting her chin on the box of crackers as though it was a shield between them. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

Yang’s gaze didn’t leave her as she slowly pulled a chair away from the tiny, dented table beside the counter. “First off... the other night. I scared you. I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t the direction she was expecting her to go. “Are you drunk?” She blurted out.

A tiny laugh escaped Yang’s mouth. “No. Didn’t drink tonight. Wasn’t in the right headspace for it.” 

It wasn’t a comfort. If anything, now Blake was more on edge. Yang was stone cold sober, and her hope of tiring her out and making her go back to sleep wasn’t going to work. Her fingers tapped on the box, struggling to think of what to say.

“I’m scaring you right now, aren’t I?”

Blake’s eyes darted back up, and found a very different woman sitting at the table. Yang hadn’t moved, but everything about her had just... softened. Her eyebrows had raised slightly, the corners of her eyes narrowed, and she was beginning to bite her lip.

“No.” It was out of her mouth before she could rein it back. “No, no you didn’t, and no you’re not. I...” 

The lavender eyes stared back at her, waiting. Always waiting, always listening.

Cardboard wrinkled as Blake pressed her forehead against the top of the box. “...that’s not totally true. I’m scared. I’m freaked the fuck out, Yang, I’m really not good at this stuff, I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t want to hurt you, I-”

The scrape of a chair against the floor was the first warning.

The second came as a shadow in front of her.

Blake’s eyes came up and found Yang’s, barely a foot away from hers. Not angry, not annoyed. But... serious. “Blake. If you want me to back off, I will. You have a right to need space. I respect that. Don’t ever be scared to say no.”

She believed her. Even in the corner of her mind that was always scared, always suspicious, Blake believed her. 

But she didn’t move to push her away.

The reality was, this had been going on for three months, not two days. She’d catch Yang watching her with a soft expression. She’d catch herself laughing at the many dumb jokes. Yang would come into her room at God-forsaken hours of the night and shake her awake from nightmares. Blake would show up in Yang’s room and silently listen while Yang struggled to vent emotions that she’d kept bottled up for too long. Blake was biased, sure, but she wasn’t blind. She knew that the two of them were too close. And she knew the soft, warm feeling that filled her chest when she looked at Yang wasn’t platonic affection.

But it had taken a sudden turn when, two nights ago, Yang came into her room and asked if she wanted to go for a drive. What had started as a beer run turned into two hours of just sitting in the college parking lot, talking and watching rain run down the windshield. 

Even now, Blake wasn’t exactly sure what had led to it. But when Yang’s lips found hers, she didn’t flinch away. She didn’t even hesitate. Had the kiss lasted even thirty seconds longer, she might have climbed clean over the console to sit in Yang’s lap.

Fortunately - or maybe unfortunately? - the sound of drunken college boys approaching had spooked them both. The two of them had fled back to the college-owned townhouse that all four girls called home, and Blake’s moment of bravery crumbled back into doubt and panic. She’d spent a full two days avoiding Yang’s gaze, convincing herself that she was a curse on any potential partner, and drowning in a lake of repressed longing. 

And now here she was, hiding behind a box of crackers.

The kitchen had shrunk to the size of a closet. Yang’s hair was messy. Her ripped leather jacket was still wet from the storm outside. The lavender eyes were staring through her. 

There were no other roommates, no leering men, and no doubts about the other’s intentions to stop them.

Blake slowly placed the box on the counter behind her.

“If the answer isn’t no.” Yang’s voice spilled into the air around them, quiet with respect and vibrating with the energy of knowing the real answer. Blake didn’t know if she’d been silent for five seconds or five minutes. “If you do want this to happen. Something needs to happen tonight.”

Blake had to swallow before she spoke. “Yeah?” It almost wasn’t a question.

Yang’s eyes moved slightly. She leaned forwards, her mismatched arms resting on the counter and framing Blake’s hips. A cheek grazed past hers.

“I came home,” Her breath washed against Blake’s ear, and the hoarse whisper shot sparks through her body. “Because all I could think about was what I would have done to you in a back room if you’d come too.”

It was like Blake’s entire body heard the whisper at the same time her mind did. Her pulse pounded along every inch of her body. Sweat appeared in her palms. Her knees wobbled. 

The anxious, suspicious, angry voice in the back of her mind slowly raised a white flag.

“...I really should have gone.” She barely heard her own voice. 

She felt Yang smile. “It’s okay.” The metal of Yang’s right arm pressed against the small of her back. Their abdomens touched. “You wouldn’t have been able to relax.”

Her hands sunk underneath Yang’s jacket. “I’m never relaxed.” 

Yang moved back slightly. The hunger was back, raging behind the lavender irises as a playful grin pulled at her lips. “I can help with that.”

The world spiraled out of control.

Smooth, cool skin met her lips. One of her hands fisted in Yang’s shirt, the other slid below its hem to find warm flesh underneath. A soft moan, teeth against her lip. 

Fingers slid below the waistband of her sweatpants. 

Her breath stopped, and Blake became extremely aware that she was soaked to the point of dripping down her thigh.

A thumb slid over her hipbone. The metallic right arm pressed her closer, against Yang’s warm body, her mouth clumsily pressing to Yang’s neck. The warm, biological arm sunk lower, hand running down the outside of her thigh instead of where she wanted it to go. 

“Definitely not relaxing.” Blake managed, nipping at her neck in an attempt to redirect her attention.

Yang’s voice vibrated under her lips. “Not yet.” The hand tightened. A thumb slid to the inside of her thigh. And then Yang pulled her arm back out entirely. “We could go up to my room, though.”

There was a dangerous rumble to her voice. There was a gleam in her eye - this was a game now, not just a collison.

But she wasn’t the only one who could tease. 

“It’s late, though. Maybe I should just head for bed.” She shrugged, like this was casual, like her groin wasn’t screaming for relief, and pushed the edges of Yang’s jacket off her shoulders. 

Yang let go of her, probably with the intention of letting the jacket hit the ground. “Huh, I dunno-” 

That was all the time Blake needed. She spun on her heel and leapt for the stairs.

“HEY!” The yell drew a cackle from her, . “I take it back, I’m not gonna let you relax until six in the morning!”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” She yelled back over her shoulder, almost tripping over the steps in her hurry to climb them.

Of course, she had no intentions of actually getting away from Yang - but there was catharsis here, somewhere. Blake had spent so long trying to keep her distance, running away, putting up walls. Yang had already caught up to her, had already climbed over her walls. Blake didn’t want to leave her behind. 

But she wanted to feel the playful flight get cut short. She wanted Yang to stop her, to hold on, to show her there was nothing to run away from. 

She wasn’t disappointed. 

As she reached Yang’s bedroom, a solid body crashed into her back, driving her through the doorway. She expected Yang to turn her around, press her against a wall.

Instead, Yang carried their momentum straight onto the bed, just barely catching them both before they crashed face-first into the covers. 

“You never answered,” Her voice was low in Blake’s ear, terrifyingly casual as she easily dragged Blake completely onto the bed and kneeled above her. “Why weren’t you asleep when I got home?” 

Blake rolled her weight upwards, onto her hands and knees. “...I couldn’t sleep.” The words stuck in her throat. “I was... ah... I gave up. Went to the kitchen to eat instead.” 

Metal fingers appeared beside her own, splaying out to support Yang’s weight. “I feel bad, actually.” Her other hand was only missing for a moment before it appeared on her hip. Her voice, low and dangerous, came from directly behind her ear. “I left you to get yourself off alone, and I’m getting the feeling you couldn’t get it done tonight.”

Her face flushed, but there was no room for lies or walls now. “Yeah.” She whispered.

“Damn. I’m sorry, babe.” She sounded more teasing than apologetic. Her thumb hooked into the hem of her pants and underwear and pulled them down. Then fingers slid across her soaked thighs, and found the hot, wet flesh that had been begging for them all night, and her tone abruptly changed. “...holy shit. I’m  _ really  _ sorry now.”

Blake was barely listening. Her body involuntarily jumped at the contact, only to meet the ceiling that Yang had become above her. “I- oh God - I may have. I may have. Thought about you. Last night.”

“That’s okay.” Cool flesh pressed against her neck, and took Blake a moment to realize it was a kiss. “I did the same thing.”

Her callused fingers began to rub circles into her clit, and Blake’s mind cleared completely. There was lava under her skin, swirling in circles to the same beat as Yang’s fingers, and every inch of skin that Yang touched spread it further. She obeyed when she was tugged to the side, closer to the center of the bed, spreading her legs slightly as Yangs knuckle pushed against her thigh. Exhales turned to whines as kisses on her neck turned into bites. 

Her legs were already shaking when she glimpsed the mirror in the corner of the room.

Blake found herself on all fours, head low, shirt pushed up and revealing her ribs as they heaved for breath. Even from a distance, she could see herself swaying slightly with every movement, driven to the brink by the fingers on her clit. 

But she only saw herself for a split second before Yang straightened, still fully dressed. She sat up, pulling the trembling hips back onto her lap. Blake’s weight fell onto her forearms, watching in the mirror in spellbound silence as Yang’s metal arm fell to the hem of her own shirt.

As she pulled it off, the muscular body below came into view. Her toned abdomen flexed as she twisted. The harness holding her prosthetic arm moved with her shoulders, straps blending in with the black bra underneath it. Her hair was pulled to one side as the tank top came over her head. She let the shirt hang from her elbow, fingers never pausing on Blake’s clit throughout the entire performance.

A pair of lavender eyes locked on hers. A small smirk. Her fingers moved to just beside her clit, and the circles sped up. 

She knew full well that Yang would never let her live it down if she came while watching her take her shirt off. Unfortunately, her body didn’t give a shit about her pride.

Blake’s eyes widened, her breath hitched, and the lava under her skin erupted. The room dimmed. Her head fell to the mattress. Her body shook uncontrollably. Distantly, she felt her voice crack in the middle of a wordless moan.

And yet, somehow, the thing she felt most was Yang’s hand, slowing to a gentle stroking motion. “There you go, babe.” Cool metal fingers landed on her thigh, running down it in a comforting motion. “Breathe.” 

For a while, breathing was all she could do.

Once Blake’s eyes finally opened, Yang had leaned over her again, pressing another kiss to the back of her neck. “So much for... not relaxing until morning...” She shot a weak grin up at the blonde.

“Okay, for real, I feel pretty bad about you being turned on and alone.” Yang’s expression was far more sheepish than smug. “I figured I wouldn’t keep you waiting. At least, not tonight. No promises about the future.”

“I’m terrified.” She replied dryly, even as a content smile spread across her face. “Speaking of...” She rolled onto her back, and hooked her fingers into the front of Yang’s jeans, pulling her slightly. “Off. Then get down here.”

Yang blinked. “Blake, it’s okay if you need to sl-” Blake’s hand turned, pointedly sliding between her skin and underwear, and Yang’s eyes widened. “-ooOh, okay, okay, one second.” 

Blake watched with some smug amusement of her own as Yang hurriedly kicked her jeans and underwear off, leaving trails of moisture on her skin from her soaked fingers. They were both going to need a shower in the morning. 

_ Actually... _

Blake sat up, and Yang’s head immediately jerked up to follow her. Her legs weren’t completely steady, but she managed to grab Yang’s arm with some authority. The taller blonde blinked in confusion, but she followed as Blake led her out of the bedroom.

She caught on quickly when they reached the bathroom. Blake quickly got the old showerhead running, and set to the irritating routine of making sure the water temperature was in the incredibly narrow zone between boiling and freezing. She shot glances over her shoulder between checking the water, and found Yang carefully unsnapping the prosthetic’s harness from her shoulders, laying the metal arm outside the door where it wouldn’t rust.

She hadn’t taken her bra off yet. Of course, it wasn’t impossible for her to do with one arm, she’d been doing it for many years. But, her back was to Blake. And she couldn’t quite resist.

Yang started slightly at the unexpected touch. But she didn’t stop her as Blake unhooked the bra and let it fall to the floor. 

Yang turned, and Blake’s mouth pressed to hers.

“We’re gonna use up all the hot water.” She mumbled as Blake’s hands slid down her abdomen.

“It’s still cold anyways.” Blake got to her knees, watching any worry about the shower evaporate from Yang’s face. “Maybe it’ll have heated up by the time I’m done.”

Yang opened her mouth for some kind of witty remark. She didn’t get a chance to deliver it.

Blake’s fingers sank into her, drawing an immediate groan from above her - then a shiver as she pressed her tongue to Yang’s clit. Yang let her hook one leg over her shoulder, and Blake quickly realized that the blonde was just as soaked as she was. Despite her smugness and the way she’d pushed Blake earlier, her weak moans didn’t leave much to the imagination. Yang must have been just as desperate for her at the party.

Unfortunately, Blake’s tongue had far more important things to do than tease Yang about her own condition. She set to working her fingers inside Yang’s tight walls, her tongue massaging around her clit. Yang’s fingers briefly ran through her hair, then immediately clenched around the counter, as though she was afraid of falling on Blake. Maybe it said a lot about Yang that she seemed out of her element as Blake went about pleasing her - she’d genuinely meant to spend the night pleasuring Blake without reciprocation. 

Exhaustion was starting to creep up on her, but Blake was long since committed to this. The tiny movements of Yang’s body were intoxicating, the way she was clenching around Blake’s fingers, the uneven breathing...

Yang’s knuckles had gone white on the edge of the counter. For a moment, Blake wondered if she should ease off, make this last longer. 

A weak whine from above her. Desperate, pleading. “ _ Blake... _ ”

For all of her dry humor, her feistiness, and her dislike of other people in general - Blake was softhearted. 

Her fingers curled inside her, rubbing along the characteristic rough patch she’d found. At the same time, she closed her lips around her clit and gently sucked.

The moment Yang came, Blake understood exactly why Yang had been more focused on getting her off than getting herself off. She shook, her voice cracked, and her entire body heaved as she came crashing across her finish line.

Blake waited for the worst of the spasms to pass before she reluctantly pulled away, running the back of her hand across the back of her mouth. “I think this... this was a good idea.”

A breathless laugh from above her. “The sex?” She slowly lifted her leg off of Blake’s shoulder, then slowly lowered herself down to sit in front of Blake. “Or the shower?”

She shrugged, and even that movement seemed to take more effort than usual. “Both.”

Yang snorted, reaching out to clumsily run a hand across Blake’s cheek. “Fair.”

She desperately wanted to curl up in Yang’s arms. But the water was still running, and they were both messes now. Blake reluctantly got to her feet with a groan.

It took minimal fiddling before the water was finally to a nearly decent temperature. By then, Yang had managed to climb back to her feet, and both women wordlessly got into the small shower. 

Washing up was a much quicker affair when both parties were too exhausted to get into any more trouble. Twice, Blake found herself starting to nod off on her feet, and blinked back to reality to find Yang gently shaking her shoulder. Somehow, Blake managed to clean up her groin and legs, shampoo her hair, and condition her hair (At least, she was pretty sure she’d conditioned it), before Yang shook her shoulder one more time. “I’m done, you okay?” 

She nodded, barely able to keep her eyes open. The few functional brain cells she had left focused onto the immediate tasks left.  _ Get out of the shower. Dry off. Find the bed.  _

Yang seemed more awake, even if it wasn’t by much. She took a towel as it was handed to her, haphazardly drying herself off, then following the blonde woman back outside, shivering in the cool night air.

Yang paused as she reached the doorway, looking back as if uncertain whether Blake would follow. 

Blake ducked under her arm and beelined straight for the bed, flopping across it with an exhausted groan. 

A small, contented chuckle from above her. An arm snaked underneath her, pulling the covers out from underneath her. “Poor thing.”

“I’ve been worse.” She mumbled. 

Yang pressed a kiss to her forehead, drawing a smile, then pulled the blankets over them both. “Have a good sleep, babe.” 

There were a lot of things to be uncertain about. There were a lot of things to lose sleep over. 

Blake didn’t care about a single one.

Instead, she nuzzled in closer to the soft, gentle woman that had thrown an arm around her. “You too.”


End file.
